


Pastel

by Oceanbreeze7



Series: Obverse [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, BAMF Luna Lovegood, Care of Magical Creatures, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, The story we all need, You thought Newt was bad?, so many magical creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 05:28:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14993789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oceanbreeze7/pseuds/Oceanbreeze7
Summary: “I don’t wear slippers.” Voldemort clipped out, resisting the temptation to slam his head against the nearest door.“Yes you do.” Luna stated before taking another sip from her mug. “You’ll scuff the floors.”“There were bloodstains on the floor!” Voldemort hissed, on the cusp of parseltongue.Luna nodded as if that was a fair point. “There was blood on your feet too. But you cleaned them, and I cleaned my floors. Please don’t make me upset Mr. Dark Lord, I like clean floors.”





	Pastel

**Author's Note:**

> The Domestic-Perfect-World-Fluff that we all deserve.  
> Adrian alive and healthy? Check  
> Luna living with magical animals and obscure household decorations? Check  
> Voldemort desperately wishing Luna wasn't his daughter-in-law?  
> CHECK.
> 
> Or.  
> Adrian lives to make his father's life, hell.

In all honesty, The Dark Lord wasn’t sure what he expected.

Perhaps something unsettling, like an array of bones or horns that together created a tidy little fence. Maybe it would be strung together with Pegasus leather, interspersed with griffin feathers. That would be more grim, but much more understandable.

Instead, the Dark Lord Voldemort stood before a house painted in pastels, and a tall wooden fence made entirely out of birdhouses.

Voldemort inhaled slowly, checked the parchment in his hand to make sure it was the correct address, and exhaled.

Something chirped at him, loud and lively in the sunny afternoon. He glanced over grudgingly, and felt his headache increase.

“For Merlin’s sake.” He croaked, resisting the urge to rub the bridge of his nose. There was a bird living in the mailbox, as if the hundreds of birdhouses weren’t proper real-estate. A basket sat on the ground beside the road, a lopsided sign indicating to place mail inside its fluorescent orange base.

(Voldemort was going to ignore the lilac ribbon, as if the orange didn’t clash enough already.)

The gate creaked when he opened it, clipping a yard sign that declared in bold font  _Carry On! Carrion!_

There was a doodle of a vulcher, roosting proudly. Campaigning for the better treatment of carrion birds.

(The sign was in red and pink.)

Voldemort  _wheezed._

The front door opened, cotton candy blue, and a woman poked her head out. Once she caught sight of him, she waved cheerily and ducked back inside the house.

(Voldemort considered turning around and apparating away. Taking over the British Magical Presence was easier than this cauldron fire.)

Voldemort steadied himself, and entered the house.

The floorboards creaked, Voldemort was positive that at least three people had died in the house due to suspicious reasons, the property was in the  _haunted forest of Albania…_

And Luna Lovegood skipped down the hallway, mindful not to trip of the plush throw rug, holding a mug of tea.

“Hello Mr. Dark Lord.” She chirped, taking a sip from her mug before blinking slowly at him like an owl. “Was the apparation okay?”

Merlin give him strength.

“Fine.” He clipped out coldly.

Luna blinked at him again, before looking down at his feet and back up. “I brought out your slippers Mr. Dark Lord.”

Somewhere within the house, an unidentified magical creature screamed.

“I don’t wear slippers.” Voldemort clipped out, resisting the temptation to slam his head against the nearest door.

“Yes you do.” Luna stated before taking another sip from her mug. “You’ll scuff the floors.”

“There were  _bloodstains_  on the floor!” Voldemort hissed, on the cusp of parseltongue.

Luna nodded as if that was a fair point. “There was blood on your feet too. But you cleaned them, and I cleaned the floors. Please don’t make me upset Mr. Dark Lord, I like clean floors.”

Voldemort rubbed the gap between his eyes between his thumb and forefinger. All of this, for the sake of  _one bloody Horcrux_.

He kicked off his boots, and crammed his feet into the unnecessarily fluffy slippers. Green, with googly eyes. They reminded him of Nagini.

“Wonderful!” Luna chimed, her entire personality lighting up as she swayed down the hallway away from him. “Would you like some tea? I’ve recently found butter is a wonderful thing to add.”

Voldemort choked, “I- butter? In your  _tea_?”

“Yes?” Luna looked over her shoulder, eyebrows bunched together in puzzlement. “It’s nice, I can put in half a stick if you’d like?”

Around the corner inside the kitchen, something squawked and uttered a curse so foul Voldemort gaped.

“Oh!” Luna beamed, pulling a large colorful parrot from Merlin knows where, “have you met Obsidian?”

Obsidian, the macaw, screamed the slur again.

Luna giggled, “he sure does enjoy waffles.”

In English, the curse did sound suspiciously like a slurred plea for waffles.

_“Lord!_ ” Someone hissed in delight. Voldemort almost sagged in relief when the long black snake- his son’s familiar, slithered into the room.  _“Master did not say you would be visiting.”_

“ _I didn’t tell him_.” Voldemort hissed back, unable to hide the exhaustion in the voice.

The parrot screamed the curse again.

Lutain cackled in delight.  _“I taught the bird that!”_

Merlin, strike him down and spare him from this agony.

“I think Adrian is outside, Mr. Dark Lord.” Luna mused, tilting her head slightly and jingling her obscene earrings. “Did you hear about the Snorkack home?”

“The- the what?” Voldemort deadpanned.

Luna beamed, reaching down to poke Lutain on the tip of his nose. The black snake barely reacted, instead he twisted up her arm until he sat across her shoulders. “The Snorkack home! It was so wonderful. He found one in Siberia and he brought it home a few baker’s dozen Wednesdays ago.”

Why would the woman use, in all numerical terms, a  _baker’s dozen_?

“He showed up with it and said he had made it a house and found it food and gave it to me as a present because he loved me!” She enthused, sighing so delighted it made Voldemort’s skin prickle. “Your son is so romantic, he must get that from you.”

Voldemort  _choked._

Luna hummed to herself and walked through the kitchen, past the dozens of moving pictures all depicting various magical creatures in baby clothing. Voldemort spotted one Blast Ended Skrewt in novelty Easter Rabbit ears and he averted his eyes to spare himself the trauma.

Outside was possibly worse.

Voldemort hadn’t visited many magical zoo’s, although he presumed they would look rather similar.

A pasture on the left housing multiple magical species he knew for certain were illegal. He made the law. He  _made them illegal_.

(Did Adrian care? No. Of course he  _bloody didn’t_.)

A pond on the right extended magically until he couldn’t see the end. It likely was held by an extension ward, the pond reaching for miles once entered. Above him, anything with wings flew and flapped, roosting in trees that hadn’t emerged from their disturbing skeletal state in decades. Fog permanently rolled around, the ambiance terrifying for anyone lesser of will.

Adrian stood in the center, casually hand feeding a dragon with teeth the size of his  _wand_.

Adrian had a smile, although the moment he spotted their movement and turned to look he adopted an appropriately surprised expression. He wiped his gore coated fingers off on his hip (Merlin’s beard, was he wearing an  _apron_?) and approached them swiftly.

“Father,” he stated bluntly, face guarded and closed off. “I hadn’t expected you.”

‘ _No_   _bloody_   _shite_.’ Voldemort thought, instead he gazed past and watched the massive dragon from where it was investigating the gore bag hungrily. “You obtained a dragon.”

Adrian crossed his arms, instantly on guard. “You recall my ownership of the Lestrange vault.”

Of course he remembered. Bellatrix’s unfortunate death had left the vault for grab. Assigning it to Adrian protected the contents, as well as the possible blood feud that would ensure after. “I do not see how a dragon fits into that.”

Adrian huffed quietly. “The dragon was the guard. Anything within Bella’s vault is mine, you said it yourself. The dragon technically was attached to the vault. It’s mine now.”

Voldemort’s headache flared. “You…repossessed a  _dra_ -”

“It’s  _mine_  now.”

“ _It’s his now_.” Lutain helpfully added in, still clinging to Luna’s shoulder.

The dragon rumbled in turn, something suspiciously close to parseltongue. Adrian turned his neck to glance at the dragon and cooed, as if it was a puppy.

“We’re rehabilitating her.” Luna helpfully supplied, for once the source of logic. “She was badly ill.”

“Then you’re releasing it.” Voldemort deadpanned, already knowing that wouldn’t be the case.

Adrian, for what it’s worth, looked perplexed. “Why would I do that?”

“Adrian, you are housing a  _dragon_.”

Adrian blinked twice, and leaned forward slightly. Pausing, as if there was a follow up statement. There wasn’t.

“Would you like to see Walter?” Luna asked politely, “It was aweful nice of Nagini to allow us to adopt him.”

“I do not want to see Walter.” Voldemort was sounding increasingly strained. “I do not want to ever see that blasted  _ruddy_   _demon_ -”

Luna’s brow pinched in hurt. “Walter is very nice. He’s made friends with-”

She made a noise Voldemort knew he’d never be able to replicate. He turned instead to look at Adrian.

“That’s the lethifold that lives in the guest linen closet.” Adrian helpfully supplied. “He gets Lutain’s extra rats.”

“A lethifold.” Voldemort repeated.

“It’s okay, the guest room is where we keep the snakes, so it isn’t really a guest room anymore.” Luna quickly clarified. “We have twenty three.”

“Snakes?” Voldemort almost didn’t want to ask.

“Just in that room.” Adrian rubbed his upper arm, looking aside with a small frustrated furrow to his brow. “Look, father, I know you don’t care. That’s why you don’t return the Christmas Cards. You can’t criticize what I’ve done with my life, that’s the deal we made. You leave me alone, and I’ll live off the map completely safe.”

Voldemort pointed behind him, “you were  _hand_   _feeding_  a  _dragon_.”

Adrian looked offended, “I just said not to criticize my life. Merlin, I let you pick where we live even. Can you go…run the world or whatever you’re up to?”

Voldemort, The Dark Lord, Ruler of the Magical Wizarding World, was feeling very scolded.

“Adrian,” Luna frowned, reaching out to put one delicate hand on his shoulder. She was missing her pinky finger, right above was a scar that looked uncomfortably like bite marks. “Your father came all the way out to see us. Can’t he stay for dinner?”

Both men instantly started protesting, internally panicking as Luna casually ignored them and started for the house, shouting something about a roasted quail.

“I am…”

“You literally cannot judge me.” Adrian huffed with a scowl. “How is what I’m doing any worse?”

“I-” One pale hand beckoned around him, as if pointing to the blind muggle goat was an answer in itself.

“You murdered nearly half the population of England.” Adrian scowled, his eyes narrowing while he shifted his weight accusatory. “You can’t complain.”

“The  _dragon_ -”

“You murdered Dumbledore and laughed in front of the entire Ministry of Magic.”

Voldemort opened his mouth, and then closed it.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Adrian muttered to himself, reaching behind to absentmindedly scratch the head of a curious six legged polar bear.

“Ogopogo.” Adrian muttered under his breath, knowing that his father wouldn’t know the creature. “ His name‘s Frank.”

“Hi Frank.” Voldemort spoke, feeling as if his very existence was cold. “What else do you have looming in this chaos?”

Adrian rubbed his face, he was freshly shaven but obviously the stubble grew strangely over the scarring. “Took in a few Grindylows after you turned Hogwarts into a volcano, found some selkies and a siren around Mykonos, er…Greece.”

Something that looked like a bulbous disgusting mixture of a purple hippopotamus and a salamander, with a long curving forehorn grunted near them. It oozed something viscous, the single claw on its hairless fleshy tail wriggled in delight.

“Oh, yeah that’s the Snorkack.” Adrian pointed at the abomination, “although I’d say stay clear of the thestrals. We have twenty nine and well, I don’t know how many of them remember you but you probably caused half of them anyways. Ginny holds a damn grudge I can tell you that.”

“Right.” Voldemort closed his eyes, and longed for the simpler times. “Please tell me you have Firebrandy.”

Adrian smirked, a twisted malicious expression that lit his eyes like fire. “Of course I do. You’ll have to reason with Luna to get it.”

“Why, would you ever choose that-”

“Two words.” Adrian clipped out, spinning on his father with delighted revenge. “Bellatrix. Lestrange.”

Voldemort nearly screamed. “I let you have her fortune and you..you…” he spluttered, mind racing, “you put up  _birdhouses_?”

Adrian shrugged, “Luna did the birdhouses. I picked the house paint, I think the pastels really bring out the absurdity of my life.”

A thestral on the side, large and full grown with an aggressive look on its face, hissed menacingly.

“Come on, father.” Adrian beamed, taking cruel delight in the suffering he was causing, “ _my_   _wife_  wants to show you the  _domestic_   _photo_   _album_  she made of our  _thirty_   _two_   _snake_ _children_.”

Voldemort didn’t like that expression. Adrian’s grin turned sharper, predatory and downright vicious. “Don’t leave your  _daughter-in-law waiting!”_

_“Adrian,”_ Voldemort barely wheezed out, “I- do not-.”

“Or your  _snake grandchildren!”_

He was going to need something stronger than Firebrandy.


End file.
